A perfect half-disk of the moon shone down onto a small pool of water tucked next to an overhanging rocky outcrop. Dozens of shining stars cast their reflections onto the pool, twinkling softly from their dome of darkness.
A thin waterfall trickled from a crevice within the rock, splashing small droplets onto the steps behind it that led down to the deeper rock-walled dip in the ground. A dark brown tabby tom padded gently down the steps, pausing only to check on the smaller gray she-cat behind him.
The she-cat picked her way towards him more carefully. One of her paws caught on a break in the rock and she let out a yelp of surprise as she slid down to the tom. He put out a paw to delicately bring her to a halt.
"Easy, Pebblepaw," he purred, lightly flicking her shoulder with the tip of his tail.
Pebblepaw smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, Stagstream." She hurried after her mentor as he continued on their walk to the pool.
Stagstream closed his eyes for a moment once he had reached the bottom of the dip, drinking in the fresh, cold scent of the water. He noticed Pebblepaw's gaze brighten with awe as she approached by his side—it was only her second visit.
A scattering of pebbles signaled the arrival of other visitors, and Stagstream's ears pricked as his gaze flashed up, where he could see the shadows of cats crossing behind the waterfall.
First from the group was a tall black tom. His amber eyes shone in the moonlight and he gave a friendly smile to Stagstream and Pebblepaw. "Hello, Stagstream, Pebblepaw!"
Stagstream dipped his head. "Greetings, Ravenfall." Pebblepaw nodded to him shyly.
Ravenfall teasingly bumped shoulders with Pebblepaw. "Good thing I didn't scare off your apprentice last time."
"It'll take more than a couple jokes to get rid of her," Stagstream responded, whiskers twitching with amusement. "Unfortunately."
His apprentice shot him an indignant look.
Before the conversation could continue, a grumble came from nearby. "Goldenshine, I'm not so old that you have to help me down." The old brown tom let out a huff. "Patience only comes with age."
The golden she-cat beside him twitched her ears. "Sorry, Elmwhisker…"
Ravenfall let out a low purr as they came closer. "Right on time, as always."
Elmwhisker sat down with another mumble. "I'm sure Rapidflurry would have taught you the same."
There came a more frantic scrambling of paws from the steps, and a fluffy white-and-blue-gray she-cat burst into the circle. "Am I late?"
Stagstream shook his head. "You're never late, Lakemist."
Lakemist let out a breath of relief. "Good… One of Maplenose's kits may have caught a cough, and she wouldn't stop fretting and let me leave until I had checked… especially not after…"
An uncomfortable silence spread across the gathered cats. A late case of greencough had wiped through not long ago, and it had quickly turned deadly, plaguing the Clans with death. Even a small cough was still a touchy case.
Elmwhisker cleared his throat. "Shall we begin?"
Almost instantly, murmurs of assent quickly arose to break the awkward quiet. Stagstream approached the pool, a familiar tingle passing through his paws.
"Remember, only a lick," he reminded Pebblepaw. The gray she-cat nodded as an excited tremble shook her body.
Stagstream bowed his head and lapped once at the water. A cold rush swept his vision away, he felt the ground disappear from beneath him, he was floating in air…
And then the chilly darkness disappeared. He was standing in an open moorland, grass and heather swaying in the midnight breeze. He sniffed at the air—the rich scent of prey filled his nose, and his paws instinctively twitched in anticipation as if he were already mid-hunt.
A starlit-lined figure began moving through the grasses toward him, and Stagstream felt a lump rise in his throat. One of the victims of the greencough epidemic… Snowstrike… His father.
The white-furred tom dipped his head. "Son."
Stagstream rushed forward and dug his muzzle into his father's chest fur, drinking in his familiar scent. A purr came from Snowstrike, sending vibrations through Stagstream's nose.
"It is good to see you," the StarClan cat meowed affectionately. "Although I wish it could be in a different place…" A raw emotion flashed in his deep amber gaze. "Your sister and your mother… They're alright, too?"
Stagstream nodded. "Willowstripe and Hawkthorn are fine, Dad."
"Good," Snowstrike responded quickly, blinking rapidly a few times. He shook out his pelt before continuing. "I have a message to deliver to you."
Stagstream cocked his head to one side and stood taller. "…What is it?"
"A time of… great change is coming for the Clans," Snowstrike answered him after a few heartbeats of hesitation. "They can either choose to accept it, or turn it away… Accepting it is easier, but costly. Turning it away will come with turmoil and bloodshed, yet it will maintain balance and harmony… Whatever choice the Clans make, you must watch out for—"
The ground rumbled beneath Stagstream's paws and he swayed uneasily, panic growing. His gaze shot to his father as his eyes stretched wide. Time is running out… He can't hold the connection for much longer…
The same fear he felt was reflected in Snowstrike's eyes. "There is a cat who seeks to bring about this change… and who is dangerous. Tell the Clans that they must beware of—"
Stagstream sat up abruptly in the waking world, chest heaving. His paws scrabbled for a second on the flat rocky ground beneath anxiety hadn't left him—Snowstrike hadn't been able to finish his message.
He turned his head up to the stars desperately. If we don't know which cat we're supposed to look out for… how are we supposed to make the choice?